


Is It Dark In Here?

by badly_knitted



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Community: fic_promptly, Darkness, Fluff and Humor, Gen, M/M, Trapped
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-24
Updated: 2015-07-24
Packaged: 2018-04-11 00:44:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4414421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badly_knitted/pseuds/badly_knitted
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack and Ianto find themselves in something of a predicament.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Is It Dark In Here?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Hamimifk (BatchSan)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BatchSan/gifts).



> Written for hamimi_fk’s prompt ‘Torchwood, Jack/Ianto, "Is it really dark in here, or is it just me?"’ at fic_promptly.

There was movement beside Jack in the darkness, followed by a groan.

“You okay?” he asked quietly, concerned.

“Not sure.” Ianto’s reply was a bit muffled. More movement and an elbow jabbed Jack in the ribs, a knee caught him in the groin.

“Ow, watch where you’re flailing.”

“Sorry. Jack?”

“Hmmm?”

“Is it really dark in here, or is it just me?”

“It’s really dark.”

“Oh. Good, for a moment there I thought I’d gone blind.”

“Not unless I have too.”

“Great, I really didn’t need to hear that.”

“Don’t panic. I’m pretty sure neither of us is blind.”

“Pretty sure? That’s not entirely reassuring. Any idea why it’s so dark?”

“Because there’s no light?” Jack’s tone was deeply sarcastic.

“Well, fine, no need to be snippy.”

“Wasn’t, I was being sarcastic. There’s a difference.”

“Not much of one,” Ianto muttered under his breath.

“What was that? I couldn’t quite hear you.”

“Nothing.” Ianto shifted again and there was a thud. “Ow.”

“Ianto?”

“S’okay; just banged my head. Wherever we are, it’s a bit of a tight fit.” 

_tap tap tap_

A soft rapping noise sounded in the enclosed space. Ianto wriggled around a bit, which Jack would have enjoyed under other circumstances, then…

_tap tap tap_

_clonk clonk clonk_

“What’re you doing?”

“Trying to figure out where we are. I think we’re in a coffin.”

Jack groaned. “Oh great. Not again!”

“Again? You’ve been trapped in a coffin before?”

“Well yeah. I mean, people think I’m dead they prepare me for burial. It’s never fun.”

“I should think not.” Silence for a moment. “How much air d’you think we have?”

“Plenty. I can feel a breeze on my face, so there must be air holes.”

“First bit of good news I’ve heard.”

“I guess whoever locked us in here doesn’t want us dead.”

“Not yet anyway,” Ianto muttered gloomily. “I don’t suppose you know how we ended up in here, do you? My memory’s a bit fuzzy.”

“That’s probably from being whacked over the head.”

“That would do it.”

“Last thing I remember, we were investigating strange noises at the old church.”

“Did we find anything?”

“I think something found us first.”

“Huh. How long do you think it’ll be before the others come looking for us?”

“Oh, they should be along soon. I borrowed your phone; I would’ve asked first, but you were unconscious.”

“You couldn’t have told me that earlier?”

“Sorry. Slipped my mind.”

“How the hell could…” Ianto sighed and Jack felt him shake his head. “Never mind; doesn’t matter.”

Jack tried to pat his shoulder reassuringly.

“Ouch! Stop poking me in the eye!”

Oops!

“Sorry, can’t see what I’m doing.”

“And stop apologising.”

“Sorry.”

Jack could almost hear Ianto rolling his eyes.

Before either of them could say anything else, there was a loud crash, rapid footsteps and a familiar voice, shouting rather loudly.

“Jack? Ianto? Where the hell are you? And what the fuck kind of trouble did you land yourselves in this time?”

Ianto kicked at the end of the coffin.

_clonk clonk clonk_

“We’re in here, Owen!”

A few minutes and some banging, clattering and creaking later, the lid of their plain wooden coffin was prized open and Owen’s face smirked down at them. They shielded their eyes from the sudden light, temporarily blinded.

“Sure you’re not vampires?”

“Very droll, Owen,” Ianto grumbled, gracing him with a withering glare. “What happened to whatever it was that locked up in here?”

“The girls ‘ave ‘em in hand. Gwen’s called the police, should be ‘ere soon.”

“It wasn’t aliens?” Jack sounded surprised.

“Nope, not this time; just your plain, common or garden human criminal types. They robbed a petrol station and holed up here waiting for the heat to die down, they just weren’t very discreet about it. You’re lucky they picked this coffin to lock you in; there’s a hole in it. Looks like it got dropped or something.”

“So we owe our lives to their incompetence?”

“Something like that.”

“Figures.” Ianto scrambled out, followed by Jack.

“Guess we’re just lucky that way!” Jack smirked. “I’ll take incompetent criminals over hostile aliens any day.”

“Well, when you put it like that…”

Grinning at each other, they headed out to see if Cardiff’s finest had arrived.

The End


End file.
